


Handling

by shir1095



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Winter Soldier (Comics)
Genre: Gen, Hydra, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pre-Canon, Strike Team, Team Dynamics, The Winter Soldier - Freeform, but thats after, pre-catws, rumlow isn't a bad guy, s.t.r.i.k.e, well maybe he is
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-04
Updated: 2015-12-02
Packaged: 2018-02-07 11:46:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1897797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shir1095/pseuds/shir1095
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Before Rumlow was the S.T.R.I.K.E team leader and before Cap was even defrosted a certian Hydra agent becomes the feild handler of The Asset.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Well I guess my love for MCU Rumlow makes me believe his past wasn't like the comics. Not saying he is a decent guy or anything but still, I believe he's less pshycopath in the movies.  
> I do not own AVENGERS nor MARVEL. If I were, Bruce and Tony would have been Science Boyfriends and Rumlow was an actual good guy.  
> Not Beta'd so any mistakes are mine.

Brock Rumlow isn’t the type of guy who get sent to higher in commend. He’s the guy who commits their orders, sure, but meeting them? It’s seems like a waste of time. He would like to think Alexander Pierce knows that and hopefully he’s only got summoned to get a pet on the shoulder and a “good job”.  
But it seems out of place. He’s only been under Pierce direct command for two years since he joined as the new S.T.R.I.K.E team newbie. He’s not some young dumb soldier with an easy finger on the trigger, that he knows, been on many different positions around the scale; first as a sharp shooter in the Force, than a Navy SEAL unit leader. For all he knows he could have been a high ranked officer by now if he didn’t split ways with the Force after 9/11. After that he’d been in a couple Black Ops until some guy in a shady suit asked him what he wanted to do with his life aside from watching Politics replacing the unquestionable force of war with money and interests.  
It was good money and he got to do what he knows best. Not asking questions? That’s easy after all your life you say “Yes, Sir” and don’t question anything because that’s what they’re teaching you- do your goddamn job. DADT isn’t some homophobic shit; it’s a lifestyle of a soldier.  
He waits in the lobby outside of Mr. Pierce office, sitting on the most uncomfortable sofa he’s ever sat on, and that’s a lot coming from a guy who slept more time in a cot or on dirt floor than on furniture. He stopped tapping his foot against the white clinical floor after Pierce secretary sent him an awful look.  
What could possibly Pierce would want from him?  
“Mr. Rumlow?” god, he hadn’t heard someone called him that since middle school. He lifts his head and look up to her. “Mr. Pierce is now ready to see you” she says with a nice smile. He wanders if she’s a part of the whole Hydra thing or she’s just some nice girl with Excel capabilities that he hired.  
As he approaches the double door wooden doors that probably cost like an AA missile or a dozen of them, it opens and Alexander Pierce and some lab coats come outside, shaking his hand. One of them give him a once-over before he nods at Pierce and goes away.  
“Rumlow, it’s good to have you” Pierce says with a warm smile and shakes his hand. “Please come in” he gestures towards the room and they both enter. It’s a designed room, with all the metal and glass the architect could master before it would count as an aquarium.  
“How things are going with you?”  
“I’m still alive so I guess that’s count as a good thing” Rumlow answers.  
“With our profession everyday you get to say it is a good day” Pierce answers, not startled from the sarcasm.  
“You’re probably wandering why I asked you here.” You can give him that, he doesn’t bother with small talk for long.  
“Yes, sir.”  
“I understand that you started working with our Asset.” The Asset. Rumlow hasn’t heard about the guy until six months ago, his first operation involving him.  
“Yes, sir.”  
“It had come to my attention that you two had… connected.” Damn it.  
It was two weeks ago, an op gone wrong and the team got trapped into an old bunker, where they had to hide for almost 48 hours without almost any sort of survival supply. The team cared for itself, making sure everyone had their fair share of nothing when they notice the Asset weird behavior. He started hyperventilating, screaming and almost blowing their hideout. Rumlow knows what PTSD looks like, hell, he’s sure that he’s never been loose from most of the symptoms, but he sure did know how to handle it when one of his men was having problem with it in the battle field. He ignores his leader command to come back sitting with them before he gets himself killed and walks over where the Asset is sitting in the far corner, while the other team set in the other side of it. He heard stories ever since he gotten to work with the Asset for the first time about how unstable he was. He could flip out and kill you in seconds, never realizing you’re not the enemy. Rumlow also doesn’t believe in things he’s yet to see so he walks to him, watching as he stares at his metal arm.  
“Hey there, soldier” he says, trying to get his attention. The Asset snaps his head faster than a cat; his reflexes inhuman. It seems to upset him though because his metal hand clench.  
“Easy, what’s going on?”  
“Who the hell are you?” the Asset grinds trough closed teeth.  
“Rumlow.” He doesn’t seem so happy about the answer, shifting as if ready to attack. Then Rumlow realize it probably sounds like an order and he doesn’t look like he woke up on the side that keens to listen to them today.  
“Brock” he says and extend his hand forward, making sure it’s his left one.  
“James, I think” the Ass-James tells him. “Where am I?” he looks disorientated, his eyes flying anywhere, searching for something unknown. He’s eyes are heavy though, which means he’s still tired.  
“Right now? In a really shitty place, so if I were you I’d just go back to sleep.” Hopefully you’ll wake up on the good side, Rumlow thinks to himself.  
“I can’t.”  
“Sure you can, we’re all going to get some rest before the morning comes, right guys?” he asks and turns around, hopefully the boys will cooperate. They nod slowly at him and James. James seems more relaxed now, and he can only hope for him to go to sleep, no question asked because he seriously don’t know what to do farther than make sure he doesn’t kill his teammates. In the end he falls asleep and the rescue team comes over a few hours later.  
“Rumlow?” Pierce brings him back from the memory.  
“Yes, sir.”  
“You’re a bright man, bright soldier. Good head on your shoulders. You know when to pull the trigger and on whom, being able to read the situation quick and react even quicker- that’s not a regular qualitys from a soldier.” Where the hell is this conversation going? “I think I can use someone like you in a new project we’re about to start. That’s why I want to promote you.”  
“With all due respect sir, I know I’m not as young as I used to be but I can assure you I’m still capable of handling things in the field. I’m sure Rollins and the others can attest that.” Now Pierce look confused. “I’m sorry?”  
“It’ an honor that you want me to move up ranks but I’m not cut out for a desk job. Don’t get me wrong, intelligence is the most important tool but I’m a field man, always have been.” Pierce seems to understand the point because he smiles a little and looks at him.  
“I can assure you Agent Rumlow that you’re valued in the field and as long as you’re capable of being there, I see no reason to put you behind a desk and make you write reports.” Rumlow let go of a breath he didn’t even realize he was holding.  
“I was going to offer you another job title- a handler.”  
“I’m sorry sir but isn’t it a desk job? because I thought we covered the whole…”  
“A field handler” Pierce interrupts him before he can continue. “You see, I need someone to make sure the Asset is doing his job on the field, a trust worthy someone who can make sure the situation is alright and if it’s not, react accordingly. As to your previous encounter with the Asset I was led to believe you’re the perfect man to the job.”  
When Rumlow doesn’t answer Pierce puts a hand on his shoulder. “Brock, he needs someone to reassure him, someone he can trust, to takes care of him when he can’t take care of himself. Think of it as training for when the time will come and you’ll take the role of S.T.R.I.K.E leader.”  
Rumlow is startled by that.  
“What are you saying, Agent, you think you can be that man?”  
“Yes sir.”  
“Good man. Now I’m sure you’re a busy man. I’ll call you when you’re needed” he stands then and smooth his tie.  
“It was good meeting you, Agent Rumlow, continue with the good job you’re doing. Men like you are the reason there is order in this world.” He shakes his hand and Rumlow is free to go. He goes straight back to S.T.R.I.K.E training center.  
“So what the big boss wanted from you?” Rollins asks as soon as he walks into the kitchen.  
“Talked to me about the Asset” he answers.  
“Got scolded for being a mother hen to the most dangerous weapon known to mankind?” his teammate asks.  
“Actually, I earned another job title” Rumlow answers. It intrigues Rollins, Rumlow notices. “what’s that?”  
“The Asset new handler” he answers shortly and opens the fridge, taking a bloody red apple.  
“Hey S.T.R.I.K.E, guess what? Rumlow is now a babysitter” Rollins shouts to the other teammates who are digging into the food in the table.  
Rumlow shakes his head, he guess he’s kind of is.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long pause, hope you'll enjoy.

The call is not late to come. It’s a little after midnight when the call comes in; not an uncommon thing in Rumlow’s life. You get called, you go to whatever shithole you’re gonna get posted in and you wait for further instructions. In his case for this specific call- a Hydra lab.  
He tries not to wake up his team as he put his gear on, straps the gun holster to his hip and moves out, noticing couple of his insomniac teammates sitting on the living room, staring at the void.  
When he comes in Alexander Pierce himself walks him down the labs when he notices James strapped into a metal chair. There are bunch of scientists standing away from the soldier.  
“I’m sure you remember Agent Rumlow” Pierce talks directly at James who looks at him with a stone cold glare. He doesn’t answer, he doesn’t even move his eyes from Pierce’, just growl in response. One of the scientists tries to approach when James snaps his head at him and make his stop dead on the spot.  
“James” Rumlow walks slowly towards him, making sure he’s in the way between Pierce and the bound man. His number one mission has always been to protect Pierce from any threat, this case is no difference.  
There is no recognition in James eyes, only plain cold stare. They lock eyes and move into a gazing match when the soldier attacks. Rumlow can just barley adjust himself so the fist that connects to his face won’t break his jaw. His instincts cuts in, first thing above all- make sure the target is secure.  
“Move out! Move out!” he yell at Pierce and the scientist. Probably due to their survival instinct they’re still alive because when the James manages to get out of the grip he was barely held in he moved towards Pierce. The lab door closed right on time and apparently even the best weapon known to mankind isn’t able to break this metal. Adamantium he finds out later.  
Now that’s its only James and he the icy gaze falls on him once again. Rumlow is realistic, he knows there is no way he’s walking out of this lab, limping is the best case scenario, body bag is the worst. But Rumlow is also a trained soldier, and even more trained officer, he had dealt with compromised soldiers, hell, that’s why he became James field handler in the first place.  
James fight like Rumlow is nothing but a punching bag, waiting to be bullied from skilled fists and a goddamn metal super hand. Rumlow fights like he always do- to survive. He can feel his ribs cracking, his face is beaten to a pulp and he’s pretty sure he got his left hand dislocated after James throws him into a freakin’ wall.  
“James” he tries, not really sure what it will accomplish but why the hell not? Some soldiers are snapping out of it with a name they know. “Who the hell is James?” he asks with a stone cold voice as he launches at him once again. Well apparently James isn’t your regular PTSD soldier.  
He’s on his fit (he’ll never fall to his knees, and he if he dies he sure as hell isn’t going without a fight), defending his upper body with only his right hand, his left one limp by his side. He can at least say he made James bleed, and that’s some accomplishment. He takes pride in it even though he looks way worse.  
James is approaching him, deathless stare still in place and Rumlow tries the only thing he got left- his training.  
“Stand down, Soldier!” he rasps, whipping a trail of blood from his split lip. James stills. Really? That’s all that takes? A little authority in his voice and the killing machine is now an obedient dog? Fuck his life.  
Rumlow exhales and lower his arm but he doesn’t let the authority fall from his voice when he shouts. “What do you think you’re doing, soldier?” Jame- no scrap that, whoever the fuck this guy’s name he doesn’t like being approached by it so soldier it is.  
“Do you need to calm down?” he asks and when he gets no answer he moves forward to the soldier who is still since he ordered him. Even though they’re about the same height Rumlow had long learned that it doesn’t matter what you look like, it matters what you project to others. “I asked you a question” he says and they’re practically in each other space. There is this chance the magic will be gone and the Soldier will kill him right now but he can’t let his fear show, showing fear is a sign of weakness.  
“No, sir” comes a voice. It’s not as threatening as you might consider the Soldier to have. Rumlow nods at him and points at the chair. “Get your ass on the goddamn chair soldier, I don’t want to hear a sound while the doctors are checking on you, got it?” he narrow his eyes at the young man, daring him. The soldier only says “yes, sir” and does as ordered. The door to the lab opens and Pierce is approaching with the scientists who start working like the lab doesn’t look like after being nuked.  
“I’m sorry, Agent Rumlow, but I would have to ask you to stay until the exam is over, to prevent any other incidents if it’ll come to this” Pierce is saying and Rumlow nods even though he can’t understand how he could possibly be any help in his condition. But like the Soldier, he is also one and like a good little soldier he doesn’t question anything being ask of him.  
He leans against the wall, the only weakness he allows himself to give in to and watches as the Soldier getting himself hooked up into monitors. He bites onto something and Rumlow tries to figure what the hell is that.  
“This part isn’t easy the first time” one of the lab assistants’ tells him but before he knows it the soldier’s eyes look like they’re about to pop out and he’s muffled screaming is heard through whatever it is they had as his gag. The veins on his neck and forehead his visible and Rumlow tries his best not to flinch. The light bulb on the ceiling is daring to give him an epileptic fit, probably because all the electricity is being pulled to the Soldier’s head.  
He’s seen torture, been on the receiving end and otherwise but it was never like this. When the light bulb finally gives its faint clinical light he knows it’s over. The Solider is limp on the chair, probably unconscious.  
“Will you escort me back to the office, Agent?” Pierce cuts his rambling mind and Rumlow nods at him.  
“You see, every now and then the soldier needs a wipeout. It helps to keep him in line and it helps him to focus on the mission.” He only nods as Pierce explains the importance of this action. When they go up to the lobby Pierce shakes his uninjured hand.  
“I knew I can count on you, Brock. It was a fine job in there. Get yourself some rest and take care. I’ll have one of my drivers give you a lift.” He’s a man of his word because twenty minutes later he’s back in the training center. The sun is only barley rising but his teammates are early risers.  
“Nice angle with the hand, what’s happened there?” his team leader asks him as soon as he walks through the door.  
“I got into an accident” he rasps and his captain orders him to sit on the chair in front of him.  
“With what, a truck?” Rollins asks and move forward to exam his face.  
“I got called” he says and hisses as his left hand moves against his will.  
“Wait, the Asset did that to you?” Rollins asks.  
“And you’re still alive?” the captain smirks before he taps on the shoulder, it’s a warning, Rumlow knows that but when he relocates his shoulder it still hurts like hell.  
“Well you know what they say, order comes from pain” he grits through clenched teeth.  
“I’m pretty sure you’re not the one who needs to get beaten up when you try to educate it” Rollins grins at him before he moves away.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry it took me so much time to update.  
> hope you'll forgive me and consider this as my gift to you.  
> not beta'd
> 
> BTW- have you seen how hot Grillo is? my gosh

It’s all about the breathing. Synchronizing your inhales with the reticle. Breath in, breath out. his hands used to shake so bad when he held his first rifle. It’s been ages since, his hands became bigger, stronger. His grip became firmer. He’s not longer the lost boy fighting for some values and a flag, he’s grown out of his innocent.   
Breath in, breath out.  
His is about to squeeze the trigger when his headphones are pulled from his ears. He looks up, takes a deep breath and sees his commander accompany by his second in command. He lowers his weapon because they wouldn’t have interrupted him unless it was something big.  
“At ease, Rumlow” his commander says and the he only let his confusion show through is his eyes. They aren’t in their gear, so there isn’t something urgent…  
“You’ve been called to report to Pierce; ETA for your ride is 1000.” He looks at his clock, 0950, great. He should have known his Day Off isn’t really off. Damn it.   
“Thank you, sir” He says and gets up from his position on the floor. He walks through the locker room first, putting his rifle in its stand to gather dust; it’s not his usual rifle, now days he’s sporting a semi automatic rather than sniper rifle. Until his next off day, he tells himself but it will probably be after somebody will get shot and Pierce would want them to cool down. Maybe if he can convince Rollins to get shot for him… it will be profitable for them both. The only reason they even on this day off it’s because their stupid second in command broke his hand during the last op. Well his lost- their gain. He is nothing but added weight for Rumlow’s taste, but second in command is for the commander to chose, not him.  
He keeps his SEAL shirt on, put his holster on his thigh, a pullover shirt with SHIELD logo on top of it and checks his hair; he wouldn’t want to brag his hair approval to all the lackeys in the base. Its special unit’s privilege, but it doesn’t mean people just except that he can have his fabulous hair when they’re stuck with Marines’ cut. It’s not too bad, could have been much worse after the traumatic experience of dry blood in it because of the mission last week.  
He doesn’t let the driver wait for long and hops on the van as soon as it stops in front of the STRIKE team center. He nods at the driver and sits back, it’s his damn day off after all, and he might as well enjoy it.  
Some scientist waits for him at the entrance and he walks with him. They don’t talk much because just like Rumlow, the scientist knows when to keep his mouth shut. He leads him into the vault he was last in, the last time he saw The Soldier. He swallows his bile when his eyes pause for the chair. The Soldier isn’t there, he’s sitting on an exam table with white robes fussing all over him. He is shirtless, motionless and basically…less. The Soldier piercing blue eyes locked on him and he is frozen; unable to look away, just like when he sat in the chair all those months ago.  
“Rumlow, good to have you here on time” Pierce voice cuts the staring contest and Rumlow looks over his shoulder and goes into attention.  
“At ease, Brock; I would like for you to meet our friend here” Pierce says with a predator smile and it takes all of Rumlow’s training not to flinch at that. The Soldier moves forward and stands on Pierce other side.  
“Brock Rumlow” he decides to introduce himself, not sure what he is dealing in here.   
“This is James, he has just been woken from a long nap, and needs some time to adjust, I’m sure you can help him.” The Soldier look lost, not quite like the time on the cabin, but defiantly not in his Asset mode.  
“Thank you, sir” he says and Rumlow shakes the hand he gives him, mindful of the metal one.   
“Not a problem, soldier.” He says, still puzzled.  
“James, why won’t you let the doctors do their last tests and then you two are free.” James nods, a little bit stiffly and goes back.  
“He’s disoriented; it’s common after he wakes up from his sleep. There is a mission in two days and I need him on his best behavior. I need him to stretch his legs, and to shake the lost puppy look. I’m sure you can do it. Go to the private gym with him, make him lift something, regain some muscle control.”   
“Yes, sir” he nods. Apparently, today is soldier-sitting.   
“Good! Look like you’re both ready to go” Peirce says and claps on his back. James approaches them both with a white T shirt.  
“Come on, James, let’s go” Rumlow orders and waiting for James to start walking. Lost puppy look or not, he is still the freaking Winter Soldier, so sue him if he doesn’t want to get stabbed, quite literally, in the back.  
“Where are we going?” James is asking.  
“To the gym.” After all, Pierce wants him to starch his legs.  
“Oh…” and they don’t speak until they reach to the training area within the premises. It’s a special one, his best guess is that it’s The Soldier private training room. They get off the elevator and James look lost, not only in his hollow eyes. His hair is disorientated and his face is a mess of over grown stubble.  
“Come on, let’s hit the showers before we start here” he says and leads them both to a private bathroom. Everything is set up, but it’s all very minimal- a towel, a razor and some shaving cream and shampoo. Not to much, just the necessity. James probably realize it’s him that’s about to get the beauty treatment and strip easily out of his cloths and step into the shower. Rumlow looks around the room while James does whatever he needs to be doing. He shaves just like he showers or does everything else- efficiently.   
His hands are shaking and Rumlow swears. Damn the stupid AC. The Furious Winter Solider freezing over because of cold shower, Pierce would slaughter him.  
“Here” he says and undress himself from the pullover. James puts it’s on and the once cold eyes with no soul look at him like he just gave him the puppy he wanted for Christmas.   
“Come on, let’s go train” Rumlow orders and lets James lead again.  
“I am a soldier, right?” Rumlow looks at him and he turns around. “You called me a soldier. And you are too, I looked at your shirt, U.S. Navy?”  
“I used to be a SEAL” and a goddamn good one, but he doesn’t say that. He isn’t going to brag to The Winter Soldier about it.   
“That’s… that’s sound swell.” Swell, what the hell is he dealing with?  
“Am I like you?” he asks and puppy eyes looks at him behind long lashes. Rumlow doesn’t know what to answer, considering The Soldier is the best soldier he’s ever seen, especially as a sniper. And that’s coming from the guy who helped train Chris fucking Kyle. Yeah the Legend is nothing near him.  
“Something like that, come on, now that you know you’re a soldier you better start listening to some orders.” There is a faint smile featuring on his face and Rumlow is now sure Pierce is going to slaughter him.  
Rumlow is spotting the Soldier while he’s training, lifting weights Rumlow couldn’t have while he was at his peak. And he sure as fuck didn’t have those kind of weights in Fallujah.  
He brings James back after three hours of rough training. The tech is on him in seconds, taking him straight to the examining table. Pierce doesn’t say anything while Rumlow stands next to him and making sure no stupid tech guy is going to get himself killed because he pushed the wrong bottom.

“Rumlow” Pierce says and Rumlow leaves his stand and follows Pierce as they leave. “Sir.”  
“You’re going as second in command on the next mission; report to your captain for further orders.” What?  
“I’m sorry, sir?”  
“There is no need to be sorry, I need the asset to be monitored, your primary mission- make sure the asset does what needs to be done.”  
“Yes, sir.”  
He takes his leave then without taking any stops but one. He walks p to James who’s sitting down while the tech guys fuss over him and checks him over. He looks fine. When he turns around he hears a quiet “Thank you.” He can feel Pierce’s eyes burning holes into his back but he doesn’t stop to prove his suspicion, and leaves the place as fast as he can.  
Rumlow spends the drive back asking himself why did he even stopped to check on the soldier one more time. The first thought that comes to his mind is that the asset is his mission. It’s his task to make sure the he is in prime condition to complete his mission. The other option that comes to his mind is rather familiar with his old self. James is his, his to take care of; his to command and his to return back to base without fatal wounds. Just like he did with his SEALS, and every other soldier he was in charge of.   
He dismisses that particular line of thought quickly before he will find himself buried under some glade. If HYDRA will find out Rumlow’s making any sort of thoughts about the Asset that may even remotely consider him as a regular person, one to be treated like any soldier is, they’ll kill him.

He is the Asset’s handler; on the mission he’ll treat him like he would any other soldier under his command, with respect and honor of brother in arms. As for pre and post mission interaction- he should lay low.  
He walks into the training center, and swallows down half a gallon of water before going to his CO office. The brief is easy- you watch my six, I’ll watch yours. If there is one thing to say about his CO is that he takes seriously Rumlow past as a CO and trust him to take care of the team. “I know your primly mission is the Asset, but you cannot forget your teammates.” He would laugh his ass off if it had been a rooky giving him that sort of talk. But his CO is three years older than him, had more experience than him. He respected him. That’s cannot be said about the benched down second in command who was a Marines a-hole who thought that if he licked asses all his way to the top he’ll finally get there. Good riddance.  
“Good luck” his CO clapped on his shoulder and he left the room, only to be trapped in Jack predatory smile. “Someone got busted, what is it, he finally found out you’re the one that ate all his special protein-CO’s only- bars?” He grabs Rollins and drags him into a quiet corner before he can do more harm. “Asshole” he says and punches his shoulder. Rollins looked down and smirked, he would kill this son of a bitch one day.  
“What got you grinding asses with the black collars and the commander?”  
“I got promoted.”  
“Shut the fuck up.” Teenage comments from Jack fucking Rollins, who knew?  
“Second in command” Rumlow says and Rollins smiles.  
“Well that’s good news, for how long am I going to hear your sexy voice yelling about chatter?”  
“Until further notice.”  
“I guess we’ll just have to make sure he won’t come back to re-claim it. Next time I’ll shoot the fucker myself.”  
“Good to know that your solidarity hasn’t changed.”  
“I’ll cross burning oceans for you princess, don’t get your panties in a twist.” He gets punched for that again.

The mission is a freaking disaster, and Rumlow swears he’ll dig up Murphy’s grave and kill him again. They’re spread out, under fire and cannot get a clear line to the warehouse.  
Rumlow’s teamed up with the Soldier, whom as far as he can tell can’t make the difference between STRIKE and the enemy. James’ lost puppy look is long gone and instead it’s the Soldier’s dead eyes staring at him from behind the mask. The mission is blown, and they should retreat. But nobody in the group of ten ago filled soldiers can’t say that out loud. They are two men down, gunshot wounds, one fatal. They should fucking retreat.  
After they kill all the fuckers the warehouse is on sight but something is off. He can feel it. “Re-group” Rumlow orders into the mic and covers a group of two-s as they regroup in the pre-agreed point. The only one still missing is the CO.   
“I’m telling you, this place is rigged. It took us so much trouble to get in here, but the place is clean? I call bullshit.” It’s a possibility. Even a strong one comes to think of it.  
“You call that clean? We are two men down!”  
“With what’s supposed to be in that building we are supposed to be ten men down!”  
“Rollins is right, man, you can smell shit from here.”   
“We should retr-“   
“I’m going in, cover me” his CO cuts him.  
“That’s a negative, do you copy?” he says into his mic. Panic has no room here but that’s only because he’s a professional.  
“Cover my six” his CO yells and then he can see a dark shadow running toward the warehouse. He doesn’t think twice.  
“Rollins, you’re in command of the force” he says and runs to stop his goddamn CO. he set target only on that, on the running figure before him.   
They grabs his hand right before the entrance. “What the hell are you doing?!” he yells at him.  
“I told you to watch my six!”  
“That’s what I’m doing, come on, let’s move!”  
“That’s what they thought you in the force? To bail in case a mission doesn’t go as planned?” Rumlow’s moments of pure stun is the CO’s moment to escape his hold, he enters the warehouse.  
He curses and follows him in. Rumlow can hear the fucking ticking before it everything blows to hell.   
Everything is red. He can see the body lying on the floor and moves towards it. The place is set into flames more quickly than a cigarette and the smoke is so thick he can bearly breath. He tries to manhandle the body toward the exit while the ceiling collapses. Fucking shit. He didn’t even like that busterd and he’s gonna end like a BBQ because of him. If he makes it out alive he’ll fucking kill him. He kicks the wood but cannot move through the stone. He collapses to his knees, the CO slides to the burning floor.   
And then it all fades.

***

“Glad you’re up, princess.” Everything hurts and Jack Fucking Rollins is the first face he sees. This is hell.  
“The freaking Asset carried your lousy ass out of the burning building. In bridle style.” Definitely hell.  
“The CO”  
“I’ll bring you a mirror but you wouldn’t like what you see.”  
“What?” he mumbles trough his drugged mind.  
“Let’s just say you won’t need any of the hair products for the time being.”  
“Jack.”  
“Pierce appointed you CO. nobody pissed at you, but seriously I just think they know you’ll pull this shit again, going into burning flames, fucking hell Brock”  
“He’s the CO”  
“Well, I’m not gonna do that for you when I’m your second in command, so dream on.”  
“Appointed yourself much?”  
“Please, like anyone can handle your hot piece of ass. Don’t worry, I won’t tell them you’re taking painkillers. Wouldn’t want to hurt your image” he says and claps him on the shoulder. He doesn’t even feel it. Order through pain his ass.  
“And Brock?” he barley roll his eyes towards the door. “Make sure to thank your prince for saving you. He even almost looked worried when he dropped you at our feet.”  
“Goodbye, Rollins.”  
“Yeah… yeah… saving you this one time and he’s already your favorite. Sleep tight, boss.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay, new chapter! and it hasn't been a year since I last updated. no promises on that though...  
> Still- no beta so what Office can't auto correct, is my fault only
> 
> Hope you all enjoy :)  
> BTW- still have trouble breathing because of Grillo's set photos.

“No fucking way.”  
“Stop being a pussy, Rollins.”  
“You being CO don’t mean I’ll follow you to hell, Asshole.” Rumlow lifts his eyebrow with the faintest hint of amusement. Rollins want to wipe it off his face.  
“I remember you said something about burning oceans…” “I’m going to kill you.”  
“I don’t really see that.” Yeah, that’s help to shake Rollins off his stand near the wall. Rumlow is leaning on the door frame, waiting for his second in-command to grow a pair. Rollins hasn’t move from his position in the last five minutes, and it fucking funny seeing the giant beast afraid to open the steel door.  
“He needs human interaction” he tries again but Rollins just shakes his head. “Who says that? The white coats lying unconscious in the ICU?” that was a bad day, Rumlow remembers it. It took him a cracked rib and the breathing techniques to calm the Soldier down. The only reason Jack knows it it’s because he wrote the report in some safe house in Georgia.   
Rumlow decides that the best way to convince Rollins is to throw him up to the water, so what if this water has the most effecting killing machine of the 20th century. The steel door opens and Rollins curses him but doesn’t back off. That’s his second in command, cursing all the way to completing the mission.  
The Soldier is sitting there, on his bunk. He’s wearing one of Brock old shirts. After some experiments, Brock realized he reacted to him better when he recognizes his scent. So he’s been leaving some of his old shirts, making sure to always shower whatever unknown scent before going to meet with the Soldier. they’ve been doing this play dates for a while but while their personal interaction became better, the Soldier was still hostile to everyone else, and Rumlow knew it wasn’t long before some shit would happen on field.  
The second Rollins enters his door he tenses, his stance shifts and Rumlow knows what is about to happen. “Soldier!” he calls and the Soldier gaze snaps to him. He gestures Jack to move forward, and the fucker puts a hand on his shoulder. Wrong move, Rollins. The Soldier launches at him and Rumlow has to play Swiss to save his idiotic friend from being slaughtered. The Soldier calms down, but not before he lands a solid fist into his face. “No touching. Got it.” Rollins move backwards and only then the Soldier is back to sitting on his bunk.  
The Soldier doesn’t move his piercing gaze from Rollins. Rumlow crouches next to his bunk and hold his hand, making sure he’s got the Soldier’s full attention before speaking. “That is Rollins, he’s part of the team.” The Soldier gaze move back to Jack and Brock grips his hand tighter, he gets a growl but the attention is back on him. “He is part of the team. Do you understand?” The Soldier doesn’t say anything and Rumlow moves until he is the only thing in his eyefeild. “Do. You. Understand?”  
“Yes, sir.” It short but it is there. Good enough for him.  
“Good. Now that it settled, lets go to the range.” Rollins lifts one eyebrows. It probably translates to ‘are you fucking crazy?’  
Brock lets the Soldier leave the room first before he moves out. Rollins even his steps. “Did it went how you expected?” Rumlow let a small smirk to show on his face. “Better than expected, actually.” Rollins doesn’t roll his eyes because he doesn’t believe in grand gestures but Brock knows he wants to.  
“Possessive bustard” He clean the blood from his split lip.  
“Don’t worry, you big lug, you’re the one for me.”  
***  
Rumlow convinces Rollins to come with him again, and again. it’s not always the Soldier who show up behind the steel door. Sometimes it’s James, scared and curled up covered by the thin blanket. It’s pretty easy to tell the difference. “Hey James, do you remember me?” Rumlow asks from the door.  
“Brock” it comes out like a whimper and Rollins looks at him. He can read his look; see how surprised he is to see the Soldier becomes a lost boy.  
“Hey kid” god he sounded like his old CO back in the SEALS. “That’s my friend Jack, do you remember him?” he shakes his head slowly. “Are you sure?” another shake. That’s not easy, handling James. With the Soldier its power and orders, but with the kid it’s harder. He doesn’t really understand that, nobody does. It’s not multi personality disorder, that’s what the white coat knows to tell him, the rest is unknown. They don’t know what triggers him, why he wakes up different or if he can change mid mission. But they do know that the probability of him waking up as James gets higher the longer he is out of cryo. That’s why the metal chair in the lab is there, that and when he needs correction.   
“Well he’s my second in command, he’s with us on the team.” He gestures Rollins forward. “He’s tall.” Well that’s a start. “Stevie was tall, well he wasn’t but then he was” he stills for a moment. “I don’t really remember…” Rumlow put a hand on his shoulder and feels him shifts towards the touch.   
“Yeah well Jack here is tall, always has been, so you can always count on him to stay tall.” Jack huffs but he’s not upset, the tension falls from his shoulder. “Do you want to stretch your limbs? Go out of this tiny bedroom?”  
“I’m just… I’m always cold and I don’t know why. I think its because of…” he shifts his look to his metal arm. That’s another change between the Soldier and James. The Soldier doesn’t acknowledge his metal arm, of course he uses it but he doesn’t show any discomfort. James on the other hand acknowledges it with every breath he takes. Rollins take a step forward and Rumlow readies himself to counter attack but there is no need. Both he and James are awe struck as Rollins takes off his sweatshirt and hands it over to James. “You don’t have to.” Yeah he really doesn’t.  
“There is no problem, kid. I always have Brock to warm me up in case I’m feeling a little cold.”’ Rumlow looks at him bewildered, well as bewildered as he can without making a complete fool out of himself. James puts the sweatshirt on and looks up to Rollins like he lit up the sun for him. a quit “Thank you” can be heard and Jack fucking Rollins actually smiles at him. It’s a cold day in hell, he’s sure of it.  
***  
When they call and tell him he needs to report to Peirce he knows exactly what it is about. The older man eventually found out about Rumlow and Rollins little visits to their favorite killing machine. He wasn’t happy about it.  
“When I told your handling mission was Top Secret, must see people only, did you think I was joking?” he slams the folder with the incriminating photos from the Soldier’s cell on the table. “  
“No, sir.”  
“So I haven’t been clear?”  
“No, sir.”  
“You better start explaining yourself soon, Agent, and before you do, please be remanded that no one it our organization is irreplaceable.”  
“Sir, Agent Rollins is my second in command and an active duty agent. He’s been exposed to the object before during missions.” Peirce purse his lips but motions him to go on.  
“I believe that exposing the object while in non-mission environment would help to improve the team dynamics.”  
“Unacceptable.”  
“Sir, it is shown that the exposure helped.”  
“I don’t need it to go after mission celebration with you, Commander.” It’s still fresh to his ear to be called liked that. “It needs to do his mission with success and report back to base.”  
“He has to acknowledge the team, unless he won’t be able to tell a friend or a foe.”   
“The Chief medical on its case told us it leads to confusion. No more of this, Commander, do you understand?” Rumlow knows a closing statement when he hears one.  
“Yes, sir” he salutes.  
“Good. As you were.”  
That’s not going to end well.   
***


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the long wait, i'm sure it's abit OOC but roll with me here. not beta'd so if there is any mistakes they're all mine  
> bewere of hints to Hydra Husbands!  
> enjoy!

The whole lot is gory, spleens and body fluids are all over the place. He’s got a gunshot to his dominant hand’ shoulder and Rollins got a goddamn hole in his thigh. The Winter Soldier is not even panting. Fuck his life.  
“You should have been more specific when you told him to attack anything but Team.” He sends a glare at Rollins. It’s not the fucking time to make that kind of jokes, not when the wounds are literally open.  
The brief was fucking easy; go eliminate a stupid scientist connected to anti HYDRA group in Russia. They took the Soldier out of cryo the day before the mission, against Rumlow’s advice. “You should give him more time to adjust, to remember who he is.”  
“You’re forgetting the concept of the Asset, Commander. He can’t remember. That’s the whole point of the chair.” That fucking chair, he swears the moment they go back to home base he’s gonna strap every single one of those white coats to it and turn it on until they will bleed their brains out of their ears.  
They briefed before mission. The Soldier looked at every single one of them like they are blood bags in a shark tank. He listens to his commands, nods when Rumlow (re)introduce him to STRIKE team but doesn’t show any recognition. Peirce is going to eat his hat after that fucking mission, if they’ll get out alive.  
They are under fire, stuffed in some storage room. Rollins keep pressure on his wound, and it goes the other way around. Rumlow’s gloves are practically inside Rollins’ thigh as he tries to understands on how the fuck things get this far.  
The mission was tricky. Go with open radio in dead silence and spread around the area; not one word unless something goes to hell. Rollins was on foot with him, they were eliminating all the security. The Soldier was supposed to off the target with his sniper rifle from afar. They just finished with the guard when they heard snow in the comms. What the fuck?  
“Think something is up?” Rollins asks him as he drags the poor bustards’ body out of the light. There is sound but its barley a whisper. Rollins drops the body and moves closer to Rumlow. “I don’t like it. You gonna break radio silence?” another chatter. Is that Russian?  
“Report” Rumlow commands to his comm.  
“Commander, do you copy?” Panting sounds.  
“Go on.” Rollins re-charges his pistol.  
“We lost sight of the asset” shooting sounds.  
“He’s gone rouge!” someone else yells.  
“Move to check point” he commands as Rollins hands him his rifle. He’s got the rooftop the Soldier was posted in on his sight. It takes him a second but he spots him. And the first thing he knows he goes down.  
“Get cover, Rollins” he yells, trying to crawl his way out of sight. Jack grabs him and howles him into cover. “He shot you?”  
“Stay low, don’t shoot to kill” he instructs to the comm.  
“I’m gonna off the fucker” Jack reloads and checks his rifle.  
“Jack!” he yells at him, grabs his kevlar for dear life. “You don’t shoot to kill. No matter what.”  
“He shot at you!”  
“We’re gunpowder to Pierce; the Asset is the first priority. You shoot at him, you’re dead!” he can see Rollins bites his tongue but do as he says, he tears the bandage from its packet and start to apply pressure on the wound. “Who’s in?” he asks into the radio.  
“Jackson’s gone, so is Brown. I’ve got…” another shooting.  
“Stay still! do not move.” Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!  
“If he’s after us he’s not going to stop, you know that” Rollins says quietly as he starts the dressing. “I think it’s Russian. It’s fucking up his programming.” “That’s sound reasonable. Are you gonna let me disable him before he eliminates all of us?”  
“We stay here. Try to reach command trough the radio. We need evec, asap.”  
“I’m not going to wait here to like a lamb on the way to slaughter, I’m not going to go without a fight, Brock. With all due respect and all” he smiles, and moves up. “Rollins, don’t!” but the blood loss wins over and he loses conscious. 

When he comes to there is silence and Rollins is out of the storage unit. Rumlow moves to grab the rifle Rollins left near him and moves to the door when Rollins stumbles inside. “You fucking asshole” he says and grabs him with his good arm, lean him against the wall. “He was five feet away from me, and he chooses my fucking thigh. Maybe he’s not that far gone…” “You think he recognizes you?” Rumlow asks as he starts to warp his leg. “I think he knew I’d come back to you. He’s probably seconds away from here, we need evec.”  
“They’re all dead. I tried to reach anyone, nada. The goddamn Russian stopped minutes ago” Rollins put pressure on his shoulder and Rumlow winches. He grabs a syringe from his bag. “It’s going to reduce the pain” he explains before he sticks it in Rollins bad thigh. The relief is seen on his face. “Don’t worry, boss. I’ve got you” he says. “Of course, who else’s going to be my prince in black Kevlar?” The Soldier steps inside the storage unit, how poetic. “I think he came to claim the title.”  
“Sir” The Soldier steps forward, his shoulder squared, like when he reports to duty.  
“Great, now he remembers who his allies are…” Rumlow puts more pressure on Rollins thigh and he gasps but smiles at him.  
“You’re injured. When the evec comes?” The Soldier asks and Rollins starts to laugh. “You killed them, remember?” The Soldier looks at confusion and realization starts to color his face. “Killing is a soft word, maybe disemboweled them is a better term.” The one time Rollins talks more than three word sentence is in the middle of a Catastrophe . Fuck his life. The soldier looks lost for a second and Rumlow feeling him getting out of his grasp. “Soldier!” he rasps and the Soldier turns and looks at him. Good. “Start sending a distress signal.” He moves to the end of the storage room, trying to get a signal. Rollins looks at him and snorts. “Way to go, boss, scold the Asset. Too bad it’s after he killed every single one in our team” The Soldier stops his typing and lock his icy blue eyes on Rollins. “It’s not the time, we need to stick together. Don’t antagonize him, Rollins. not now.”  
“We’re gonna do auditions. ‘The next STRIKE team!’ You’ll be the sweet judge, Rumlow. Don’t you worry, I’ll be the mean judge, tell them how worthless meat sacks they are” Rollins says. “Don’t lose conscious, we need to develop the concept. Maybe the Soldier can be the guest judge.”  
“Stop talking.”  
The Soldier moves forward and puts Jack’s hands away, looking at his thigh wound. “There is a chopper two miles south of here. We can evec…”  
“He can’t move with his leg.” The Soldier looks around and after a second and lifts Jack in a fireman carry. “Can you move?” The Soldier asks, he nods and get up to stand next to them. “I’m not going to let you forget that, Jack.” Even if he tried he will need to bleach his brain before he can unsee the Giant Rollins on the Soldier’ shoulders. If he wasn’t that high on heavy painkillers he would have probably protested more.  
“If we get out of this alive, I’m gonna take shots of your stomach, Rum” Rollins says to Rumlow and he laughs. “Tie you to your bed and just lick it all off.” The Soldier sends him a look and Rumlow sends a glare to the back of his SIC.  
He takes command on the chopper and gets them out of there fairly quickly. Thanks god for that. He sits by Rollins bed when he comes to. He’s eyes looks at him and he groans. “How long?”  
“Three days. Don’t worry, I’ve watered your plants.”  
“Fuck you” yeah Rollins is back. “What the fuck are you studying anyway? Started to go to night school?” he asks as he points on the study book Brock is holding.  
“Russian” Rumlow replies but he doesn’t say anything else.  
“What next?” Jack asks after moments of silence. “I think you said something about shots off my stomach.”


End file.
